


The Guy Who Still Doesn't Like Musicals

by Vanilla_Sodapop



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Rewrite, Except Sam, Found Family, Friendship, Fuck Sam, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team as Family, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Sodapop/pseuds/Vanilla_Sodapop
Summary: It began with a meteor. A meteor that was hurtling at breakneck speed towards the Starlight Theatre in the happy town of Hatchetfield. A meteor that contained infectious spores, all controlled by a higher being, a hivemind, an overlord. Spores, that when inhaled by a human, made the blood run blue and the movements graceful. Not only that, but it wanted to spread to the four corners of the earth, and there was only one man who could stop it: Paul... The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals.An Everyone Lives (Sort of) AU that starts the same and then slowly descends into madness, much like I will while writing this.ON HAITUS





	1. La Dee Dah Dah Day

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy! Also, this isn't quite as good as my usual writing, but it will get much better. This is just to get started!

It began with a meteor. A meteor that was hurtling at breakneck speed towards the Starlight Theatre in the happy town of Hatchetfield. A meteor that contained infectious spores, all controlled by a higher being, a hivemind,  **an overlord.** Spores, that when inhaled by a human, made the blood run blue and the movements graceful. Not only that, but it wanted to spread to the four corners of the earth, and there was only one man who could stop it: Paul... The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ "This is the Morning Hatchetfield News with Dan and Donna!" _

_ "They said he wouldn't make it, that he had fallen from too great a height, but this little guy beat the odds and captured our hearts. Now weighing in at almost 10 ounces, Peanuts, the Hatchetfield pocket squirrel, has outgrown his adopted father's pocket." _

"Peanuts!" Paul grinned as he finished getting ready. Today was going well, and a little good news always added a spring to his step. Everything was going smoothly; his job, his friendships, his life! However, that would all change in a matter of minutes.

_ "Luckily, proud Poppa Ed has been squirrelling away on his GoFundMe page to build Peanuts his very own, get this Dan, squirrel house!" _

_ "Huh, that's amazing!" _

_ "And something else has fallen to the ground here in Hatchetfield, this time from outer space! The meteor came-" _

**Click.**

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sorry!" Paul stepped out of the way of a long haired man, who had been dancing, oblivious of his surroundings, towards him. He spun around, noticing yet another dancer, this time a woman, spinning towards him.

"That was interesting…" Paul mumbled, frowning slightly. Could it be some sort of holiday? Maybe Canadian...

Suddenly, two more appeared and pirouetted in front of him. 

"Seems like a lot." He mentioned, turning to someone stood beside him, "Hey, did you see- Oh, you again…"

It was the incredibly rude Greenpeace girl from the night before, and she seemed to be enjoying the performance.

"Look, I'm not a bad guy, okay? I've given to charities in the past…"

_ "Hey, yeah! Just a typical day-"  _ she began to sing, much to Paul's horror.

"What."

_ "Got me feelin' in a beautiful way! No rhyme or reason, we could sing a duet!"  _ She grabbed Paul's hand grinning at him. He noticed however, that her eyes no longer held the light they had last night. Something was terribly wrong. He reeled back in pain and shock.

_ "Dance a style or two. Or I'll make you a bet, just a smile will do!"  _ She finally let go of his hand to resume her dancing. Nervously, he glanced around, praying there would be a normal person who was just as confused as he was. Alas, there was not.

_ "Sometimes I just wanna shout, atop of roofs and mountain tops, that all the world is paved in gold!"  _ She linked arms with a seemingly random guy. Paul recognised him as the first dancer he had bumped into.

"Oh, is he with Greenpeace too or…" Maybe she was just doing this to mess with him? 

_ "Yesterday was retroactive, got myself a new perspective. I strut it up and down the road!"  _ Without warning, she spun away from the other dancer and was now clinging onto Paul's side.

_ "So I threw all my worries, and my old skin away, doing what i want to, on this la dee dah dah day!" _

Paul was surrounded by people he had never met, who were all grinning at him while wearing the same cold, dead eyes.

_ "La dee dah dah day!"  _ The dancers erupted into song.

_ "La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day!"  _ The Greenpeace girl seemed to be enjoying torturing Paul, yet her eyes looked scared and sad.

_ "La dee dah dah day!"  _ Well… so did everyone's for that matter.

_ "La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day!"  _ The girl was now trying desperately to get Paul to dance with her, but he was having none of it.

"What the fuck was that?" Now Paul was agitated, as well as confused.

"Spare change for the homeless?" A poor man stumbled up to him, almost knocking him over.

"Sorry man, I don't have anything." Paul replied, with a sliver of guilt. He did have spare change, but he honestly just wanted to get out of there.

"Hey man, that's alright…" the man waved and walked off, before spinning back around,  _ "Cause I may not have a home, but that's way okay! Cuz I prefer to roam the streets all day! The world is my house! The dogs are my food."  _

All the other dancers joined in with the homeless man's choreography. Why was he in on the joke too? Suddenly he pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and held it against himself.

_ "Oh look, a new blouse! And a new trash-tattoo!"  _ He began aggressively skipping towards Paul.

_ "I used to want to kill them all, while high on bathsalt-zombie-drugs, while snacking on a dead man's face!" _

That's gotta be a joke… it must be a joke! Those were the only thing Paul could think as he watched the dancing unfold in terror and confusion.

"What?"

_ "But that just feels like yesterday! A song takes all the pain away, my politics and house-views changed. Dancing on the concrete used to hurt a lot, but now I got new feet, and this jam's just way too hot!"  _

_ "La dee dah dah day!"  _ Paul started to brace himself for another perfectly choreographed dance. That girl must have been really salty to have pulled this off in one night!

_ "La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day!" _

"Okay, okay thank you!" Paul quickly handed the homeless man his change, in hope they'd leave him alone.

"Hey, thank you. God bless you, man!" It seemed to calm down for a second, but the damn Greenpeace girl appeared beside him again. The rest of the group seemed to have circled him.

"Alright, um, uh? What's happening? I'm very confused and concerned by… all of this… I-"

_ "Do you want to save the planet?"  _ The girl burst into song yet again… great.

_ "Of course you want to save the planet!"  _ The chorus chipped in again, not giving Paul any time to answer.

_ "Do you want to save the planet?"  _ She yelled again.

_ "There's just one way you can do it!" _

_ "By singing a song!" _

_ "Singing a song." _

_ "Singing along!"  _ Everyone suddenly stood up, positioning themselves not unlike a choir.

_ "La dee dah dah dah dah, la dee dah dee dah, da dee dah dah dah, dee dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah, la dee dah dah dah dah DAY!!!"  _ They almost sounded angelic, even to Paul. Any goodness went away as the started circling him, like vultures.

_ "La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! Away!"  _ They suddenly stopped and were all facing Paul.

_ "La dee dahahh-" _

_ "Day!"  _ With a flash, all the dancers were posing around Paul.

"Lights down!" They all jumped up, with various mutters of "Oh my god…" and "Quick change, quick change!" thrown about. And with that, they disappeared into the alleyways. Paul stood up slowly.

"Okay." He muttered to himself, nodding and shaking his head in turn, "Okay? Okay. Okay. Okay!" 

With that, he carried on his daily commute.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bill waved his hands around, exasperated.

"Now, I get that Alice is eighteen. She's a senior. She's got her own life, but I only get my daughter for one week a month and she wants to spend that whole time with her girlfriend, Deb. So i say, bring Deb along, we'll all go see the show! And would you believe it? We get there and the whole theatre was exploded by a god dang meteor! MAMA MIA!" He sharply inhaled, and turned to Charlotte, who was making a pot of coffee, "Huge hole right through the marquee and everything. Can you believe that, Charlotte?"

For some time now, Charlotte had been looking very nervous, and pouring way too much sugar into the coffee pot.

"Charlotte? You got enough coffee in the sugar?"

She looked down, noticing the masses of sugar.

"Huh? Oh! I didn't even realise. Sorry, I'll make another pot." She giggled, "Coffee in the sugar… Bill, you're a riot!"

Paul wandered in, shaking slightly from the encounter.

"Okay. Okay. Okay. Hey guys, uh, is today some kind of, I don't know, Canadian holiday or something? Like uh… International Music Day or…?"

"Not that I know of." Bill shrugged.

"Okay, cause I just, uh…" Paul laughed nervously, "I just saw some people dancing and singing like they were in a musical. There was this homeless guy and this very rude woman from Greenpeace doing this whole choreographed number…"

"Like a flash mob?" Ted interrupted.

"Yeah. I mean, what else could it have been, right?"

"Well, did you get a video of it?" He interrupted again.

"No."

Ted shook his head in disbelief.

"You're fucking useless, Paul."

"Yeah, I just have a bad feeling about all this." Paul muttered, "Charlotte?"

"Huh?"

"Have you noticed anything strange?"

"What? No. Oh, it's silly. Um… it's just… um… it's Sam, my husband. He said he was coming home late last night-"

"Heh! He didn't get home at all!" Ted laughed, then coughed nervously, "Uh, I heard, I wasn't there."

"He must have rolled in about six this morning. He was in the shower when I woke up. I could hear him. He was… singing. And I know this is a strange thing to realize, because, we'll, Sam's not a...bad singer. He's just always been a little… flat. But nor this morning. Today he… he sounded like an angel. And I don't know why, but… it frightened me."

Paul slowly approached Charlotte as she carried on explaining what had happened.

"It just… it didn't sound like  **my** Sam. Oh, I must sound silly. I'm probably just imagining things…"

"Charlotte? Do you remember  **what** Sam was singing?"

"It was just a silly little song. Something like, um, la… dee…"

"Dah dah day?" Paul asked, panicking slightly. Charlotte looked up, nodding nervously.

"Paul, Mr. Davidson wants to see you in his office." Melissa stumbled in, pushing her messy hair out of her face.

"Oh shoot, I forgot to hand in my weekly reports yesterday. I'm gonna get it!"

Ted snorted with laughter, as Paul raced to his boss's office. 


	2. Why Are They All Singing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy this chapter! It won't be long now until the canon divergence starts properly.
> 
> Comments are appreciated and i don't mind constructive criticism!

Mr. Davidson was sat at his desk, reading the newspaper.

“Hey Mr. Davidson, I think I know why you called me in here today. My weekly reports were not turned in yesterday,” Paul paused for a second, “Not because they’re not done! They are done… There’s a problem with the printer network, you see. You try to print something over here, it gets sent over there.”

Paul laughed nervously. The last thing he needed after such a weird morning was to get fired. Little did he know, what would happen next would be much, much worse.

“I bet my report is sitting in someone else’s printer tray right now. You give me til the end of the day, I can find it!” 

Mr. Davidson didn’t even look up from the paper.

“Not do it. I- I- I wouldn’t just not do my statistical analysis.” He panicked, stumbling over his words like a puppet with a broken string. He then sat down, laughing nervously.

“That would really gum things up here in the office. And that’s the last thing I want-”

The newspaper dropped to the floor, Mr. Davidson’s grinning face appearing from behind it. He turned sharply to stare at Paul.

“ _ What do you want, Paul? _ ”

“Excuse me?” He replied, noticing that what his boss just said seemed to have a distinct tune. Oh shit.

“ _ Tell me what you desire to see. Your deepest intent, Paul. _ ”

Now he was most definitely singing, and Paul did not like it one bit.

“ _ What do ya see for this company? _ ”

Now he was rhyming.

“ _ I’m looking for someone with strong ambition. Someone to sell their specific vision-” _

Oh God… he’s still rhyming!

“ _Someone to share with precise precision their thoughts…_ _‘Cause I want you to want, to want!_ ” Mr. Davidson spun around, “So what do you want, Paul?” He strode over to Paul, who was very uncomfortable.

“What’s that one concrete goal that motivates all your actions?”

“I don’t think I have one of those!” Paul half-cried, becoming more and more wary of his Boss… or whatever that thing was.

“Well then, how is anyone supposed to sympathise with you, Paul?”

“I dunno, I want money or-”

“ _ I want you to want, Paul! A man so vague just can’t be trusted. Something you pine for! _ ” He interrupted.

“Mr. Davidson?” Paul stuttered, before being cut off again.

“ _ Maybe someone who keeps you lusting?”  _ He started making the shape of a woman with his hands… but didn’t stop and carried on adding curves.

“That’s too many!” Paul cried out, unaware of how mad he sounded.

“ _ I’m just a boss, I’m not an idea guy. I hire you, Paul, to keep our stock high. But if you can’t hit that point that’s in the sky! Then I want you to want! _ ” Mr. Davidson grinned like a mad puppy.

“ _ To want! Do you know what I want for myself?” _

“Okay?”

“ _ I’ve waited for so long to tell somebody else. Carol, my wife, you’re my muse, my source of light.”  _ He pulled out a picture of a woman, who Paul hoped was his wife, Carol.

“ _ Carol, my love, I want you to choke me out at night. _ ”

“Uh huh…” Paul was now beyond confused.

“ _ I want you to choke me,” _

“This seems like a private moment…”

“ _ I want you to choke me,” _

“Like, who is this for?”

“ _ I want you to choke me, while I jerk off. I want you to choke me while I jerk off! _ ”

“Melissa, get my wife on the phone for me.”

“Mr. Davidson, I think I should leave.” Paul stood up, ready to run.

“No Paul! I want you to hear this, if you leave you’re fired.”

He sat back down, wringing his hands nervously.

“Carol! Yes, everything’s fine. I promise. I just uh, wanted to tell you something." He flicked his tongue nervously, "I uh… Mhm…" 

Mr Davidson starting laughing nervously, his face gradually falling, "I uh… I forgot what I wanted to say… Maybe someday I'll remember. Goodbye…" He put the phone down and looked over at Paul, who was horrified.

" _ Paul! Now you know what it is to want!" _

"I wanna go home!" He cried.

" _ It consumes a man with passion to drive the primary plot. So take up yoga or improv classes, volunteer at shelters, or Twitch to the masses! There's gotta be something that'll keep my hands on you! I want you!" _

"Oh hell no!" Paul jumped up as Mr Davidson sprinted towards him.

" _ Cause I want you to want!" _

"Mr. Davidson, I'm going to get some coffee, do you want anything?"

" _ No, I need you to want!" _

"How about an iced caramel frappe? Nothing better?"

" _ And if you don't want, we're through. Paul? Paul? Paul!" _

\-----------------------------------------------

"Okay, okay, okay…" Paul muttered over and over.

"Okay, alright. This isn't happening. Get a grip, Paul, you're hallucinating. Better yet, You're still dreaming. You need to wake up, you need some coffee. That's it. Just a nice cup of black coffee, nothing in it. No cream, no sugar, just black coffee!"

He had never monologued before… maybe he was going mad? 

He entered Beanies, ringing the bell quickly.

"Hello?! Hello?!? Please God, I just want a black coffee!" He screamed, forgetting that he was in the singing coffee shop.

" _ Black coffee, I'm your coffee gal," _

"No!" He was losing it. This was the end, for sure, "No! Not you too, Emma, please God stop singing!"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Oh, I didn't forget! You're the guy who doesn't like musicals, Paul, right?" She smiled, turning around to make the coffee.

"Emma. You're talking to me… like a normal person!" Paul stuttered.

"Uh, yeah, and if my boss catches me, I'll get canned. Uh, new company policy, not only do we have to sing when people tip, but when they enter, when they order, all the time apparently!"

"Emma, I think there's something terribly wrong with the world today-"

"Yeah, fucking tell me about it. I spent the entire morning learning some dumbass new tip song, I'm exhausted. Do-"

Paul quickly grabbed Emma, pulling her into the corner of the shop, "Emma, Emma… Emma, I feel like there's something… sinister infecting Hatchetfield, and I know this is gonna sound crazy, and not very scary, but it is scary if you think about the implications." He grabbed her shoulders, "Promise me you'll think about the implications!"

"Okay! Okay, I promise."

"Okay, Emma! I think the world is becoming…" Paul took a deep breath, "A musical."

"Um, I-"

"Don't say anything! Let it sink in!"

"Okay." She nodded.

"Okay, now… are you frightened?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I am starting to get a little frightened-"

"You should be!"

**Ding.** The bell rang, signifying a tip. Which, for Emma, meant a song.

"Emma! Tip!" Nora and Zoey sang, appearing from the staff room.

"Oh shit, not again! Wait here, Paul, there's no way I'm doing this dumbass tip song."

She marched over to the other girls, who were busy handing out coffee.

"You know what? When I got this job, I signed up to serve coffee and cold shitty pastries. If I wanted to be in a musical, I'd be in a damn musical! Yeah, that's right Zoey. I was in Brigadoon in high school and i fucking killed it! But now, I'm just trying to make ends meet while I work my way through community college and I can do that just as easily, down the street, at Starbucks! I quit!"

"You can't quit Emma." Nora and Zoey chanted.

"Yeah, I sure as hell can."

"The song is so simple, we'll teach it to you! Why everyone here will be singing it soon!"

The other customers began coughing suddenly, spilling their remaining coffee and falling to the ground.

"What are you talking-"

"They've all had their coffee, their apotheosis will be upon them at any moment!"

"Wait! what did you do to their coffee?" 

Emma ran over to the counter and opened the pot. Inside was a blue goo that was slowly dissolving into the frothy liquid.

"Fucking gross!"

" _ Get your cuppa poison coffee!"  _ The girls started towards Emma menacingly.

"What is this? What is this!"

" _ Ya toxic cuppa joey! We'll make a twisted cuppa java mocha latte with the goo for you, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack!"  _ Emma ducked away and ran over to Paul.

" _ Hey, Mr. Business, how do ya, how do ya, how do ya do?"  _ The customers stood slowly, pointing at the two humans.

"They're singing! Why are they all singing?"

"We need to run, Emma. Don't look back, just run!"

They ran like their lives depended on it because, well… they did. The sounds of the singing baristas clouded over into nothingness.


	3. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took sooooo long!
> 
> Comments are cool and make these chapters come out even faster!

"The trash cans, go!" Emma yelled, dragging Paul through a narrow alleyway, "Oh my god… oh my god! What the fuck was that?"

"I told you it was scarier than it sounds!"

"You were right… I didn't think about the implications… Oh my god I didn't think about it!"

Paul awkwardly patted her shoulder, "Emma, Emma, shh… it's alright, okay?"

He was cut off by Bill jumping out from behind the trash cans, "No- it's not alright, Paul!"

"Bill! You scared the shit out of us!"

"Well how the hell am I supposed to pop out of a trash can and not scare the shit out of you?*

"I don't know… give us a warning or something next time, you know?"

A sudden bang came from the trash can, startling Paul and Emma. Charlotte got up quickly,

"Charlotte!"

"Sorry, I tried to warn you bu-"

"Oh my god! Who are these people?* Emma yelled, exasperated. 

"They're my friends from work."

"What are they doing in the trash?"

"Well, we had to find a place to hide, Mr. Davidson kept calling people into his office and they kept coming out singing!" Bill cut in.

"It was the same at the bank, the butchers, and the post office." Charlotte stumbled nervously over her words.

"It's all downtown, we were just at Beanies!"

Ted jumped up from behind the trash can, banging his hands on the lid.

"You didn't invite me?!"

"Jesus Ted!" Paul yelled, still jumpy.

Ted started making shushing noises, "Shut the fuck up, Paul! Alright? If you want to stay in our hiding spot, you got to be quiet. All right… there's something going on and we don't know what it is or who we can trust so Paul," he tapped in the lid quickly, "Get in the trash can. You, beat it!"

He pointed at Emma.

"Uh, fuck you?" Emma most definitely had a way with words.

"No, no… Emma stays with us." Paul propped himself up on the can.

"I don't know her!"

"Yeah, you do! She's the…" he gulped nervously, hoping Emma wouldn't hear what he was going to say next, "She's the barista from Beanies… the- you know… the latte hottie…"

Emma did hear, " Is that Borat? What?"

"Paul that is not the latte hottie," he sighed, "That's the crabby one who won't sing when I tip her! You grabbed the wrong on, you noodle! Fuck!"

A melody filled the air.

"Oh shit, you've alerted them now, Paul! We're all gonna die because of you!" Ted yelled.

"Ted, maybe you should-"

"Shut up, Charlotte… just shut the fuck up! What are we gonna do? Where can we go?"

"Actually, I've got an idea…" Emma muttered, more to herself than to Ted.

"Well, what is it Emma?" Bill stuttered, just as stressed as Ted but hiding it better.

"I know where we can go."

"Where?" Ted was getting impatient.

"I have this like kooky, reclusive biology professor… Professor Hidgens! Yes! I'm his favourite student, 'cause I brought his groceries once. Anyway, he's got like a lab in his house, and a- security… His whole house is like a panic room! He's like a… um… what do you call a guy that lives in a fortress?"

"A king!" Ted said confidently.

"No! No, he's like a… um… a doomsday… survivalist! Yes! He thinks the world is ending, he's been preparing for the last twenty years for the apocalypse."

"The apocalypse? Is that what this is? Maybe we should go to a church…" Charlotte stuttered.

"No! No, no no no, no, Charlotte. We are all from different denominations, alright? We cannot split up. I am a Presbyterian, I'm not gonna die in your dirty ass Methodist church, alright?" Ted patted her on the back and turned to face the others, "I say, we go to the panic room and we beg for the king's help."

"Charlotte, I think the best thing for all of us would be to get to the professor." Paul hugged her awkwardly.

"Yeah…"

"Well, let's go now. My car is nearby." Emma hurried the others, well aware of the approaching music.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ "This is Hatchetfield Action News with Dan and Donna!" _

_ "What began as a series of isolated incidents has escalated into what some are calling a musical riot."  _ The Television crackles.

"Good God!" Hidgens kept up from his seat. This was it… the apocalypse had arrived, "It's spreading faster than I theorized!"

_ "Despite several reports of violence, the Hatchetfield Police have assured Channel 9 there is no cause for alarm." _

"Because they're part of it, Donna!"

_ "Nevertheless, our skittish neighbors in Clivesdale have raised the Nantucket Bridge. With the ferries down for the season and no accessible means off the island, Hatchetfield citizens are advised to stay indoors-" _

Hidgens quickly switched off the TV, panicking slightly. This was not good, not good at all!

"Like fish in a barrel! Of course the outside world is no help! It's up to us now, Alexa."

The doorbell rang faintly, causing Hidgens to spin around, a gun now in his hand.

"Who is it?" He stuttered.

"Professor Hidgens!" Emma yelled.

"Don't lie to me, whoever you are! I'm Professor Hidgens!"

"No, no… Professor it's me, Emma Perkins? The whole town has gone crazy, I didn't know where else to go!"

He smiled and let out a sigh of relief, "Emma! You've come to the right place! Hold on, I'll let you in. Alex's! Open the gates!"

Emma came running in, followed by the others.

"Oh my god! Thank you, Professor! Thank you!" Emma bolted straight into Hidgens' arms and he hugged her tightly.

"I'm so glad you're safe…" he whispered to her quickly before letting go and straightening his jacket. Emma smiled and nodded, before turning to the others.

"Oh, these are my friends, this is Paul and… them. We came from downtown. Now listen, this is going to sound crazy, but everyone-"

"Singing? And dancing? Like a musical? They want you to join them, once they get you, you're a part of it!" Hidgens grabbed Emma, shaking her slightly.

"Uh, yeah, how did you know?"

He stood up straight and looked away, dramatically.

"I theorized this exact scenario thirty years ago!"

"Really?" Paul questioned, not quite believing the professor.

"Really!" He was still posing.

"Like exactly this?"

"Exactly!"

"That the world would become a musical?"

"You'd better believe it!"

He turned, "So, what are we going to do about this, you say?"

Paul shrugged, "I didn't say, but-"

"Absolutely nothing!"

"Wait, what?" It was Emma's turn to be confused.

"Sadly there is nothing we can do. How do we stop it? I don't know, and I highly doubt any of you know, either."

Paul decided to ignore that statement, "Hey, Professor? Today's been pretty stressful… do you have anything to take the edge off like... drink or something?"

"Young man… for the past twenty-seven years I have been stockpiling the bare essentials needed for human survival in the events of a world ending cataclysm. You bet your ass we got booze! Come with me."

Most of them followed, leaving only Ted and Charlotte, who was still pretty shaken.

"Come on Charlotte, we'll make you a drink, we can relax… talk… fuck…" Ted mumbled, hugging Charlotte from behind. He thought it was comforting, whereas in reality, it was creepy.

"Ted! I can't believe you're thinking about that at a time like this! The whole world could be coming to an end!" She pulled away from him.

"Well, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna go out doing the thing I love… screwin' around with another man's wife."

"Ted! You're such a horny bastard!" Charlotte hissed, backing away. Ted quickly grabbed her.

"Always have been. Always will be."

She frowned and pulled away, "I'm not interested…"

"You know what Charlotte? I'm done, alright? I'm gonna hit on that crabby barista."

Charlotte followed him, feeling slightly guilty.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He said this was a full bar! How the hell am I supposed to make a Shirley Temple without any cherries?" Bill was freaking out by now. He just really wanted a Shirley Temple.

"Jesus Christ Bill! It's the end of the world and you're gonna get your drink on with a Shirley fucking Temple?" Ted slurred, already extremely drunk.

"Well, if it's as serious as all that, I figured we might need a designated driver!"

"Okay, so when the cops pull you over, you can pass the breathalyzer test before they infect you with their nasty blue shit? Come on!"

"If you make one more crack at me, I am gonna… do something to you!"

"Oh yeah Bill? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna… Kick your head!"

"Oh…" Ted stood up, carefully putting his large bottle if whiskey down, "My head."

"Yeah!"

"Not my ass?"

"Yeah!" Bill looked a little unsure.

"Alright then let's see it! Huh? Kick my head!" He approached Bill, stumbling slightly, "Come on, karate champ! I want to see you kick above your waist. Alright, try that roundhouse, show me that sweeping crane kick that your kung-fu master taught you."

"Okay, you two, calm down!" Paul jumped between the two, "Ted, Bill's not gonna kick your head-" 

"Why not? It's the most vulnerable part of the body. That's what Sensei Bill taught me."

"Okay, it was a dumb threat. Stop rubbing it in, I'm sure if he could do it over again, he'd say ass."

"Uh-uh, Uh-uh, you know if you want to kill a snake, what do you do? Huh? You cut off its head. Where does the fish got from? The head! Take out the head, and the whole thing goes down! That's why a fisherman always goes for… the head!"

Bill snapped, and punched Ted in the stomach, sending him reeling in shock and pain. Good job he put down his bottle.

"Ow! Come on, Bill, come on!" He started towards his drink, but Paul grabbed it first.

"This is supposed to relax us, not make us kill each other!"

"Whatever." Ted curled up on the couch, still grumbling to himself. Paul shrugged and sat beside Emma, on the other side of the room.

"Ugh, why did I come back here?"

"To uh, drink?"

She shook her head, "Back to Hatchetfield. I spent the first 18 years of my life trying to get out of this place… should've just stayed in Guatemala. I mean, yeah, they've got volcanoes and Coatimundis everywhere, but uh-"

"What's a Coatimundi?"

"Oh, it's like a little raccoon thing. Eh, they get into shit, people hate 'em, but at least they don't sing and dance!"

"So is that what drove you back to Hatchetfield? Coatimundis, up in your shit?"

"No, no… it was my sister, Jane. She was the good one. Yeah… she had this um, Lisa Frank binder when she was little, where she mapped out her entire life, and I swear to god she stuck to it. Bullet point by bullet point. It was like job, husband, house, kids… And you know when one sister is so on top of her game it kind of demands the other one to be a total fuck up, right?"

"What is yin without yang?"

"That's what I'm saying! Yeah, man, she was off doing life and I was doing something else… backpacking mostly, and she would call me and you know, invite me home for the big events, you know, weddings, baby showers, and I'd always say oh, sorry, I'll catch the next one… but um, then when I got the invitation to her funeral I was like oh, there won't be a next one…"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Hey, you didn't crash into her car. Anyway, uh, it's weird, growing up in someone's shadow because then when they're gone, the light shines on your life for the first time, and it does not look good… So there I was: thirty, with no roots anywhere except Hatchetfield. So I thought uh, well I'm gonna make something of myself, you know do something my sister would be proud of, enroll in community college, study botany… I'm gonna start a pot farm."

"Oh. Did your sister smoke a lot of pot?"

"No, but weed's the future, it's gonna be legal nationwide soon bet you want money, not that it matters anymore. Man, my whole life, my one goal was to avoid dying in Hatchetfield and here we are…"

"Hey, it could be worse. You could be dying in Clivesdale."

"Fuck Clivesdale!" Emma grinned. At least they weren't there.

"Fuck 'em!" Papal looked down, "You know, all things considered, I like Hatchetfield."

Emma raised her eyebrow.

*Yeah. I've been here my whole life, born and bred… never wanted to leave. Still don't."

"Hey, we're the same age, how come I never knew you in high school?"

"You probably went to Hatchetfield High, I went to Sycamore."

Emma's eyes lit up suddenly, "Fucking Timberwolves! We hated you guys!"

"We hated ourselves!" He laughed.

"So, uh, back at Beanies you said you're in your high school production of Brigadoon?"

"Aye, I was Bonnie Jean!" She put on a surprisingly good Scottish accent.

"That was 2003 right? I actually saw you in Brigadoon."

"No shit."

"Yes shit! Yeah, uh, we didn't have a theatre program in our school. So I guess to make us feel like crap they bused us over to watch your show. It was the first musical I ever saw… I hated it. That's probably the start of my whole thing… you're the reason I don't like musicals!"

"Woah, that's like your origin story."

"Yeah!"

"So I guess I'm the supervillian?"

"I don't think of you like that at all Emma."

"Listen, um, Paul-"

The professor suddenly threw open the door, "All of you, sing the beginning of Moana!"

He was hurriedly pointing his shotgun at each of the others, forcing them into a corner.

"What?!"

"I said sing god damn it!"

"Uh, Moana… make way make way, uh, consider the coconut, cocoa, ho ho, uh… consider it's tree, god gives us what we- and no one leaves!" They sang badly, jumbling up the words. 

"I didn't like that movie…" Paul mumbled, as if for an excuse.

"It's the circle of life…" Bill still had no idea what the fuck was going on.

"That's not it…" Emma mumbled to him, shutting him up almost instantly.

"All right… that was terrible. Not a single one of you were on pitch, which means, they're still human…"

He saw the others looking confused.

"These things… their- their tactic is to hide among us and as their numbers grow, they become more bold, and as we've seen… violent."

Bill's phone buzzed softly. He quickly answered, seeming worried.

"Alice?"

_ "Dad!" _

"Alice! Oh thank god. I've never been more happy in my life that your mother left me and moved you to Clivesdale-"

_ "Oh, about that…" _

"What?"

_ "I'm still in Hatchetfield…" _

"No, no Alice. I saw you get on the bus to Clivesdale this morning-"

" _ I got off, dad." _

"What? You got off? Got off?"

_ "Yeah, to see Deb… _ "

"To go see Deb? God damn it Alice! If Deb jumped off a bridge, would you?"

" _ Dad!" _

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I know you're scared.

" _ You've got to help… They're everywhere, and Deb- _ " The phone cut off

"What's wrong with Deb?" Bill's voice shook, but there was no answer.

"Just run and hide! I'm coming to pick you up, okay? I love you..."

A faint "I love you too." Crackled out of the phone, then the call ended abruptly. Shakily, Bill put his phone back down.

"Give me- give me some bread and some water. I knew we were gonna need a designated driver!"

"What's happening Bill?"

"It's Alice. She's stuck in Hatchetfield. Dang it! I need to take the car. She's in Hatchetfield High, she's locked herself in the choir room."

"And you're gonna save her?" Ted piped up, stumbling forward, "GI Bill? You're gonna run and gun your way through a city of singing zombie motherfuckers. Wake up Bill! She's already dead…"

"Don't you dare, Ted!" Bill started towards him.

"You're gonna get there and she's gonna be dead and you're gonna die too and that's exactly what's gonna happen if you try to go back through downtown."

"But what else am I supposed to do?"

"Don't go through downtown." Paul cut in, "Cut through Pinebrook."

"What?"

"Pinebrook, rich neighbourhood, fancy houses... huge yards."

"Yes, avoid densely populated areas." The professor seemed deep in thought.

"Take Evergreen, cut through the park, hop a curb, and you're in the teachers parking lot."

"Right! Yes, and the window the staff lounge is always open so they can smoke, just slide in and out, used to be my old escape route." Emma perked up excitedly.

"Okay, okay… this is a lot of directions."

"Don't bother, he's gonna get lost." Ted sighed.

"You are such a fucking creep, you know that?" Emma hissed at Ted, getting tired of him.

"Oh, I'm a fucking creep?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a fucking creep? Listen, sweetheart. The world has changed, alright? There are no creeps. There are no heroes. There are only people who are alive and people who are fucking dead! And Bill's daughter? She's dead."

The room was thrust into an uneasy silence, before Ted broke it again.

"What? I'm only saying what we all know is true! Right Paul?"

Paul looked around, then turned back to Ted, a solemn look on his face.

"I know that the chances are slim to nil, and I know that Bill doesn't know the shortcut… Bill if you go, you're not gonna make it. Which is why I'm gonna go with you to get your daughter back."

"Y-you'd do that for me Paul?"

"Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mamma Mia."

"Well, hey, let's go. If we haul ass we can be there and back in 20 minutes." Emma leapt forward.

"No, Emma, you stay here. I have a theory on how these aliens can be stopped, but I'll need an extra pair of hands in the lab. Paul, Bill, godspeed."

Hidgens handed them the shotgun, trying to hide how afraid he felt. The two started to leave, wrestling back the unease that had settled on the room.

"Um, hey Paul?" Emma stopped him suddenly, "Listen, if those things get you, they're gonna make you sing and dance and all that shit you hate, so don't you let 'em."

"Emma," he pulled her into a tight hug, "There comes a time in every man's life where he has to draw a line in the sand… and I will never be in a fucking musical."

He turned and left, following Bill out of the fortress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i might do some character building for Ted next...


	4. Working Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! I'm planning something awesome!
> 
> TW for alcohol abuse, start after the first cut if that bothers you :)

"Young man?"

Ted was slumped over the bar, surrounded by empty bottles that once contained vodka, whiskey, and rum. Every now and again he'd groan and try to lift his head, but it never worked. He had drank way too much. 

"Excuse me… Ted, is it?* The familiar sounding voice echoed around his head, leaving Ted cringing.

"Ted, talk to me."

He frowned slightly, the whiskey had got to him… or was it the vodka? He didn't know, and he didn't care. But part of him did care, he was confused. Never once in his life had he been this drunk.

"Wha-"

"First of all, is your name Ted?"

He nodded slightly. 

"Can you look at me?"

He managed to look up. It was a man, with grey hair… oh, the king.

"Huh, the king…" Ted mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind…"

The professor sighed and got up, searching around behind the bar. Ted cranes his neck to see what was going on, but to no prevail.

"Here, drink this." Hidgens held out a glass full of a bubbling, green liquid.

"Uh, no thanks." As soon as those words left Ted's mouth, he changed his mind, grabbing the glass and downing the concoction. After only seconds, he felt better.

"Thanks… I'm going to bed now."

"No, you're not. Why were you so drunk?"

"The world is ending."

"I know that's not the reason."

Ted sighed. The last thing he wanted was for someone to ask, why couldn't the professor just leave him to wallow in his misery.

"It's… it's Bill and Paul. They're gonna die…" he looked away for a second.

"You don't know that-"

"Yes, I do! They're gonna make too much sound, or turn the wrong corner and BAM! Singing zombie motherfuckers…"

"Ted…" 

"Just leave it, okay?" He got up and stormed into one of the guest rooms, locking the door and collapsing on the bed. His eyes fluttered closed, this was going to be a long night.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light filtered in through his eyelids, burning until he was conscious enough to move.

"Hey, c'mon… wake up…" Emma was nudging him.

"Wha-"

"So, you're finally awake."

The professor slinked forward out of the shadows and set his gun down on what seemed to be a table.

"Professor Hidgens, what are you doing?" Emma stuttered, trying to stand up. Only then did Ted realise they were tied to chairs… kinky. He quickly shook that thought from his mind.

"Exactly what needs to be done! Alexa!" The professor was grinning maniacally, "Open the gates! Turn off the defences, shut it all down!"

A loud, electric buzz rumbled throughout the house.

"Professor, the fences are protecting us!"

"Protecting us from what, Emma? The end of the world? What's protecting us from nuclear holocaust? From climate change? Over-population? Emma… the world was already doomed. Not by them, but by  _ us _ ! All my research, my theories… it's been a waste! A lie! I was trying to save something that could  _ not _ be saved…  _ until now _ . But before we can be reborn to a better world, we must first say our goodbyes… Alexa…"

A soft beep came from the machine in the corner.

"After all these years in isolation, with you as my one companion, I've come to love you as much as any woman of flesh and blood. That's why it pains me to do this… Alexa, initiate self destruct."

Ted frowned and looked at Emma, who seemed just as confused as himself.

"I don't think it can do that, professor."

The professor sighed softly, "It's 2018 and it can't even blow itself up… Fucking piece of shit!"

He grabbed the echo and threw it across the room.

"Please! Just let us go, man!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ted. Don't you see? If humanity is going to survive, it must  _ evolve _ ! That's what this visitor from the stars has brought us! Salvation! This is humanity's second chance! My second chance!"

He leaned on the table, looking away.

"Please, professor. Think about what you're doing…" Emma pleaded. Hidgens almost looked… sad. He then stood up and smiled.

"Did you know that before I became a biologist, I had a much truer and deeper passion? Yes, my first love was, and always will be… musical theatre!"

He dramatically whipped the cloth off what Ted once assumed to be a table, but now realised it was something else entirely… a piano.

"Oh, god no." Emma muttered beside him.

"This guy's fuckin' nuts!"

"After a lot of research, I have made an amazing discovery… These alien organisms have a highly specialised gland that allows them to communicate through rhythmic frequencies. They are drawn to music, like a moth to the flame!"

The professor sat turned and stood beside the piano, not looking at Ted or Emma.

"Professor! Please! No!"

"Don't fuckin' do it!"

Hidgens sat down carefully, "It is humanity's eleventh hour! And I've prepared something for the occasion…"

Then the dreaded happened… he began to sing. Then he began to dance and it was… amazing. Ted watched, and even started to enjoy it… until…

_ "Hey, Henry." _

"Greg! Is that you?" The professor let out a soft laugh and rushed towards the  _ thing _ .

"No, Professor Hidgens! That's not Greg!" 

Poor Emma, Ted thought. She still hadn't given up.

_ "Been a long time." _

_ "Hey, boys! Wanna toss that pigskin around?" _

"Stu! You haven't aged a day! Is it five o'clock already? It must be!"

_ "Come on, Henry. We have some catching up to do!" _

The creature that was once Stu grabbed the professor while the other turned, picking up the pistol from the floor and pointing it at him.

"Wait, stop, please! I've changed my mind!"

Ted squeezed his eyes closed as a gunshot went off. After the loud bang, however, there was no silence. Instead, there was vicious sounding barks and a low thundering. Within seconds, Ted opened his eyes to a completely different scene. Hidgens was on the floor, bleeding but still conscious. The two creatures were long gone, but in their place was mountains of the blue… shit. Finally, he noticed the source of the sounds. There were two huge doberman making their way to the professor.

"Stay away from him!" Emma seemed to have been screaming at the dogs for a few minutes now… huh, his head must be more fucked up than he thought before. Ted quickly shook his head and watched as the dogs walked towards him and Emma.

"Shit! Good dogs, good dogs, good dogs…" Ted tried to scramble away, but the chairs were screwed down. To his surprise the dogs started chewing the ropes, freeing them.

"I'm… I'm so sorry… I have no idea what came over me." The professor rolled over and groaned.

"Professor!" Emma ran over to him and tried to help him up.

"Leave it, Emma. Just… look after Freddie and Lizzie for me."

With that, he passed out.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Alice? Alice? Where are you, sweetie?"

Bill and Paul stumbled into the choir room and locked the door.

"Bill! Be quiet!"

"I gotta find her, Paul!"

"We will, but you have to shut up. This whole school could be crawling with those… things! You screaming is gonna get us killed, and  _ then  _ who's gonna save Alice?"

"Right, right. Sorry, Paul. It's just… She's all I have."

"I know. Just try to stay calm."

"You know, she's a good kid, Paul. She's smart, and I respect her choices, but if we're being honest… I  _ don't  _ like Deb. She's always on her phone, and I don't know… I just think Alice could do better."

"Honestly? Same. She could do so much better than me."

Bill whipped around to see Deb leaning on a desk at the back of the class.

"Deb! I...I didn't-"

"Calm down. It's true. She's amazing, smart, beautiful… she's the best. She could have any girl in this school, but she chose me for some reason."

"Deb…"

"Well? Do you want me to get the others? I expect this is some sort of… rescue mission?"

"Yeah… wait, the others?" 

"Yes," Deb rolled her eyes and stood up, "The others. Alice, Oliver, Danny, Jade, Grace and Lily are in the next room."

"Woah, we only came for Alice, right Bill?" Paul butted in.

"No. Deb, get the others."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! The teen gang are here! (Jade is the stoner girl, and Lily is the hatchetfield bee)


End file.
